The Blackest Ice
by YamiGoddess
Summary: He’s never experienced this kind of cold before. Zaude, through some of the eyes of the ones left behind. Flynn/Yuri, onesided Estelle/Yuri


Disclaimer: Namco owns I just like making their characters unhappy, apparently.  
Rating: Worksafe  
Spoilers: Zaude.  
Warnings: My feeble attempts at angst. *coughcoughnotbetadcoughcough*  
Notes: Um, Flynn/Yuri and one-sided Estelle/Yuri. Of course, Yuri isn't exactly here to give his opinion so it can't really be said that it's one-sided. But for the sake of argument (and because I say so) we're going to say that it is.

Summary: He's never experienced this kind of cold before. Zaude, through some of the eyes of the ones left behind.

-o-

Flynn is... never cold. He doesn't know why, but even in the coldest weather he never gets anything more than shivers. Yuri would say that it's because Knights don't believe in temperature, or that Flynn's just a freak of nature. Yuri's always cold, doesn't have anything resembling proper circulation, so his feet are always freezing. Maybe if he wore his shirts properly he wouldn't need to use Flynn's side as his personal heating machine.

Flynn could never seem to break Yuri of that particular habit, but then Flynn had never tried very hard, even if he sometimes wonders what he'd have to do to get Yuri to stop.

Standing atop Zaude, wind ripping through his hair and through the joints in his armour, Flynn is frozen by the heavy ball of dread that's been dropped in his gut, unfurling thin, icy fingers that latch onto his limbs and hold them still as he stares down at the churning, black ocean far below. This...can't be happening. It can't - - Yuri can't be - - no.

_No._

"Captain?"

Sodia's voice is thin, weak as he's never heard it before, and he can't seem to figure out why. She's never liked Yuri, he could tell from the first moment they met – Yuri isn't the kind of person who gives the best first impressions, and Sodia isn't the kind of person to let injustices stand – so her distress is strange.

"Captain?" She tries again.

He manages to tear his eyes from the blackness below to her face, but he can't really see her, his eyes can't seem to focus properly; he tries to blame it on the stinging wind in his face, but then he'd just be fooling himself.

"Sodia?" She flinches a little as he says her name, and he wonders briefly just how badly his composure has slipped. She stumbles through her words.

"We...need to report back to the capital. Master Ioder - - we need to tell him about Alexei, we need to get back and - - Captain?"

Flynn realizes that his attention has returned back to the edge of the platform, and he deliberately forces himself to turn away, eyes landing on Yuri's band of friends as he does.

Lady Estellise is curled up in the arms of the Krityan woman, and they're both kneeling on the ground, Estellise weeping hysterically. Miss Mordio is next to them, arms around her knees as silent tears stream down her face. Young Capel is shaking; face slack and pale, eyes as unfocussed as Flynn feels, and the way Captain Schwann's face is pinched is one he's seen before, on knights who've lost one of their own too many times to count.

Something brushes his hand, and he looks down to see Repede at his side, ears flat against his head, tail tucked tight around his hind leg. Repede gives him a low whine, and Flynn slips to his knees to run a numb hand through his fur.

"Captain –," Sodia sounds unnerved to the point of panic, and all Flynn can do is hold up a hand to silence her, shame tapping against the overwhelming grief leaching through him like ice water. He must be really out of it if he's scaring her this badly.

He lurches to his feet, wonders absently why his legs feel so numb as he walks over to Lady Estellise and her friends.

"My Lady –," And even he can hear how dead his voice sounds. He clears his throat and tries again. "My Lady Estellise, we need to return to the capital." Not any better, but at least he doesn't sound like he's speaking through a mouthful of spit. Estellise only curls around the Krityan tighter, sobs becoming more hysterical as she shakes her head violently.

Flynn closes his eyes for a moment and breathes deeply, letting it out in a shuddering sigh as he reaches to touch her shoulder. "My Lady - - Please, we need to take you to the capital. This place isn't secure. I –," _can't let you get hurt after all Yuri's done to keep you safe_, he wants to say, but the words seize up in his throat and he has to look away as something in him starts to panic.

Because Yuri wouldn't be around to make him sorry if she was hurt, and there's no way someone could survive a fall like that and –

There are arms around his shoulders, soft and trim, and Lady Estellise is crying into his neck, her voice hoarse and desperate against his skin. He wraps shaking arms around her, trying not to lose himself as the urge to scream himself raw swells up inside him like a raging beast, because he can't let himself fall apart here. He has troops waiting for him to lead them home, and an Empire in need of someone to take care of her, and a princess to protect, and –

When Estellise goes limp in his arms, it only takes a fraction of his concentration to slip an arm under her knees and lift her into the air, turning to the lift as his mind goes curiously blank.

-o-

"Commandant, I don't understand. Why are we sending ships out to look for Lowell? He's - - I'm sorry, sir, but there's just no way he survived that fall and –,"

"Sodia." She stiffens into an automatic salute at her name, and while Flynn says it more forcefully than he likes, he doesn't want to hear her objections. "Sodia, I know. I know, but I need –," he cuts himself off, strangles the words that want to come out; that he needs to _see_ Yuri dead before he'll believe it. "He's - - he deserves a proper burial for all he's done. Just –," he holds up a hand when Sodia opens her mouth to protest. "Just go, Sodia. I have work to do."

She hesitates for a moment, and there's something in her eyes that pulls at his attention more fully than anything these last weeks; timid and anxious, like she's fearing reprisal, but then she bows and turns away, and it slips from his attention. He must have been curter than he thought.

When the door snicks shut behind her, he lets his eyes fall to the requisition form he'd been reading before she interrupted. He tries to find the place where he left off, but he realizes that none of the document looks familiar, and that he hadn't been reading it at all even before she came in.

He sags back into his chair in disgust, hands curling into fists on the armrests, and he's angry with himself, angry with his work, angry with _Yuri_ for doing this to him, making him this useless - - thing. He can't even - - He's not - -

He forces himself to go loose, shoulders then hands until he's limp in his chair. It's not fair to blame Yuri for this because he would never have chosen this fate, would have never left his friends behind to mourn him, not on his own free will. It's only Flynn's shortcomings and –

He rubs his hands up his arms, attempting to warm himself as he gets to his feet to throw another log in the fire. He needs to get back to work, because there's always a chance, and Yuri will laugh him into an early grave if he sees what a wreck Flynn's turned into.

Yuri _will_ laugh him into an early grave. He _has_ to.

-o-

The weeks pass slowly as Estelle wanders the castle, mostly in a daze if she admits it to herself. She hasn't even been able to distract herself by helping in the infirmary because her powers are such a danger to the world.

Rita's been working so hard to find a way to stop Estelle's effect on the Aer Krene, but so far nothing has come from it, and all she really wants is for Yuri to tell her it's all right that she's different, and that everything will be fine, that she'll be able to get out of the castle again someday, and why has this place become such a prison?

She's getting better about not breaking into tears every time she thinks of Yuri, but it's still hard and all she wants to do these days is curl up and sleep, sleep until things make sense again.

Judith was the first to leave the city after they returned, beaten down and _missing_ even after what should have been a victory. She stayed for three days, helping Estelle through those first terrible nights before leaving the city entirely. Estelle can't really blame her – she wants to leave so badly, too – but there are still moments where she's angry that Judith just _left_ like that. _They_ are hurting, too, and they could have _all_ helped each other.

Raven and Karol had gone back to Dahngrest a week later, with Rita heading off to Aspio soon after. Rita said that she needed the resources in Aspio to try and figure out a solution to Estelle's problem, but Estelle can tell she just wanted to be alone somewhere familiar to deal with her grief. Karol had been so miserable that he hadn't even protested taking an armed escort back to Dahngrest, while Raven had been so emotionless that it had been hard to tell he'd lost a friend if you didn't look close enough. Estelle guesses it's because Raven's lost comrades before, but she feels a little betrayed that he hasn't shown much of _anything._

And Flynn...well Flynn may have been holding it together, at least on the surface, but she can see the devastation in him far more than she likes.

He does everything automatically these days, like one of the Empire's war machines. She hasn't seen much of _any_ kind of expression on his face since Zaude, and since he's been doing everything so perfectly – the Empire has never been in better shape, ironic seeing as how they're all going to be destroyed soon – that no one else has looked close enough to see that he's hurting. She's not sure what she's supposed to do.

But he's been the only one without someone to lean on – she'll never count Sodia, who can't see past her worship of his rank to help him properly – so she wants to help him as much as she can. He and Yuri grew up together. She's – _she'd – _only known Yuri for a few months and he's – _he'd,_ get it _right_,no don't cry– already become such an important part of her life. She almost can't imagine just how much of a blow it must be for Flynn.

But she has to do _something_.

It's stifling when she enters his study and a look at the fireplace explains why; it's a roaring blaze, barely contained by the hearth, and Flynn is sprawled out in front of it, leaning against an arm chair so close that the heat must have been painful. He doesn't look like he notices though, judging by the faraway look on his face.

It takes him a long time to notice her there, and she almost has to speak up to get his attention, but when he finally turns, blinking in fuzzy surprise – which is understandable since it's awfully late; she hadn't wanted to disturb his work – she has to bite her lip to keep from asking if he's all right. He's obviously not; he looks pale and drawn, dark circles practically painted under his eyes, and the fire is casting shadows over his face, making him look eerily gaunt.

"Lady Estellise?" he murmurs, sitting up and placing the glass she hadn't noticed he'd been holding on the floor. She can't help but feel guilty for coming; it looks like he's dressed for bed, a pale nightshirt and loose pants in place of his thick armour. She's disturbing him when he needs all the rest he can get. "Is there something I can help you with?"

She shakes her head and moves across the room to sit down next to him, ignoring how hot her skin is turning this close to the fire and wondering why Flynn is rubbing his arms like he's chilled. "I couldn't sleep," she says.

It's not a lie, but it's not the entire truth, and Flynn nods like he understands; which of course he does, he probably wouldn't be sitting here if he could sleep.

He picks up his glass again, takes a long drink of amber liquid – scotch, or maybe brandy – and it's probably the first time he's ever been even slightly intoxicated in front of her. Once upon a time he probably thought it wasn't polite – as if she hasn't seen what drunken nobles look like before – but there are more important things to think about now than propriety.

The silence between them is strange, and it takes her a moment to realize it's because Flynn is normally trying to talk her through her problems when she can't sleep, is normally pacing the room with a thoughtful look on his face as he tries to figure out the best way to help her.

It's a terrible feeling to realize just how much of their friendship has revolved around Flynn helping her deal with her petty dilemmas, and she questions her motives for coming here then, wonders if she didn't come to help him, but to try and ease her own grief.

"I've called off the search," Flynn says at last, startling her with the unexpected sound of his voice, making her go completely rigid as she realizes exactly what he's saying. She almost leaps to her feet in anger, because he _can't_ be giving up. He _can't_.

"W...what?"

"He's not coming back," he whispers and she stills. His voice is flat and abrupt – dead, she tries not to think – like he's giving a report to the Council, and Estelle can only stare at him, horrified. She's suddenly glad for the intense heat of the fire, because it's drying the rapidly welling tears that are coming to her eyes.

Flynn doesn't give up, he's one of the most stubborn people she knows, second only to... well he's just too stubborn to give up and he's - -

He's fingering the glass in his hands, eyes wide and sightless as he stares into the fire, and Estelle only _just_ manages not to burst into tears at the devastation on his face, finally breaking through the blank mask of denial she's seen on him of late, like he's discovered the meaning of life and hates every secret he's found.

"_He's not coming back._"

And then she does start crying, because she knows that he's right. No one could have survived a fall like that, not even Yuri. And even if he had, he would have had to swim to the continent to get to land because he certainly hasn't washed up on Zaude's shores. And the Council is going to start making a fuss if Flynn wastes any more Imperial resources for personal reasons. And the Empire can't afford to lose Flynn as her Commandant. And - - and...

Flynn is shaking, just a little, but enough that she can feel it where her arm brushes his. When she looks at him, his head is tipped back, eyes clamped shut and teeth clenched so tightly his jaw is turning white, and this must be such a terrible decision for him, to fulfill his duty to people who don't care when all he wants is to look for his friend. And she's starting to realize just why Yuri would do anything to help Flynn advance in his career, because she sees now, better than she ever did, that Flynn really is the person who's going to change the Empire for the better.

"There wasn't really much of chance for me was there?" She breathes through a hiccup as she watches Flynn's face turns even more pale and agonized, knows that he understands exactly what she means.

He doesn't say anything, but his reaction is enough. She's not _blind, _just... inexperienced, and all the noblewomen she's ever known have whispered about the habits of men at war, and Flynn and Yuri already had a close relationship to begin with.

She looks down at her hands. _Healer's hands_, she had thought they were, once upon a time, before she'd gone and allowed the biggest catastrophe in a thousand years to be released on the world. She isn't a healer; everything she does just brings more pain and suffering. Her entire _existence_ is an affront to the planet. If only she'd been stronger, then Alexei wouldn't have been able to use her, and Zaude wouldn't have been uncovered, and Yuri... and _Yuri_ - -

"He... He doesn't - - didn't see gender, Lady Estellise," Flynn says, and she notices it's not a denial of her words. "He... saw people. He saw people and if they were important to him, then he did everything in his power to keep them safe and make them happy. _Everything."_ His voice breaks a little, like he finally understands _exactly_ how much Yuri did for those he cared about. "You...you were important to him. I don't know if he loved you, but he cared about you a great deal. And if you think any of this is your fault, then I hope you know that he would be upset with you for it. It's not your fault. _Nothing_ is your fault.

"It's people like Alexei and Ragou, people who think they stand higher than others, people who benefit from those born to disadvantage that are at fault." His voice twists into something not entirely unlike bitterness. "Yuri knows - - knew that, and he would never blame you. And if you were in danger again, he would have happily gone to your rescue because that...was what he did."

Yes, that was exactly what he did. He _always_ threw himself at danger, _always _took the less savoury path so other wouldn't have to, _always _burdened himself so others wouldn't be, even if all someone wanted to do was share the weight of responsibility with him.

Estelle turns into Flynn's shoulder, tucks her face against his shirt as tears stream down her cheeks, feels Flynn tremble as he wraps an arm around her, little shuddering breaths whispering through her hair. She can feel how tightly he's wound, as if he's trying not to fly apart and scream himself raw, trying to hold himself together for her sake. And she almost can't believe how he's trying to be composed, even now, except that's how Flynn is. He's a boulder to those in crisis, strong and immovable and reliable, and she doesn't think he knows how to grieve.

"It's okay," she whispers, _let go,_ she wants to say, except he might take her words seriously and actually remove his arms, and she can't let him do that. So she tightens her grip on him when he goes completely still, wraps a hand around the back of his neck when he starts trembling in earnest, his breath coming in short, abrupt gasps.

"It's okay."

It's not. It's really, really not. And it's not going to be okay for a really long time, but when Flynn sags against her, goes limp as little, desperate choking noises are pressed into her hair, she feels a little better, glad that she's helped him even if it's only a little.

And then she's sobbing harder than she ever has in her life, because this time it's for real, isn't it? Yuri isn't coming back and she's never going to see him smile again, or hear him say those joking irreverent remarks that make her feel like a regular person, or watch the joy on his face when he battles a difficult enemy because...

He's gone.

_Yuri's gone._

-o-

Hypionia is colder than Flynn remembers, but that might just be because it's nearing winter and the last time he had been here was on a mission in the middle a heat wave. Whatever the reason, it's still difficult to resist the urge to stick his hands in the fire to warm his numb fingers. His new business partner might not take kindly to such a display.

"I think we can make this work," Kaufman says decisively from her seat on the other side of the fire pit, one long leg crossed over the other as she surveys the area, most likely keeping tabs on the knights Flynn has brought with him.

"Let's hope," Flynn says in response as he too glances out over the territory they've zoned out for the new city he's planning on creating.

He's trying to convince himself that he's doing this in order to achieve a new level of peace with Dahngrest – that having a city created by both the Guilds and the Knights will somehow ease tensions between the two groups – but a part of him knows that he's only doing this to distract himself from his thoughts, and that it's not nearly as effective as he had hoped.

He feels... guilty about leaving Zaphias so quickly, but he was going stir crazy trapped inside the palace, and he doesn't think he can face Lady Estellise after what happened. He…can still see the look on her face when he told her he was calling off the search, wide eyed and incredulous, denial written all over her features, and he feels like he's betrayed her trust.

"We'll begin development in the morning, yes?" Kaufman asks, and he turns to her, watches as she gathers up the ledgers and contracts they've been poring over for the last few days and gets to her feet, heading in the direction of her tent. She pauses after a few steps, looks back over her shoulder at him with a sympathetic frown on her face. Flynn has an uncomfortable feeling that he knows what she's going to say.

"I heard about Lowell," she offers, turning to face him fully. "He was a good man. If he hadn't already found his own guild, I would have tried to get him to work for me. I heard he was a friend of yours, you have my sympathies."

He takes a deep breath. "Thank you," he manages, clasping his hands to keep them from balling into fists. There's a moment of silence where he can feel Kaufman's eyes on him, but he doesn't look away from the fire until she lets out a little sigh and walks away.

When he's sure she's gone, he unlinks his fingers and lets his face drop to his hands. It seems he can't escape Yuri's influence, no matter where he goes. There's always someone who he's made an impact on, or changed in some way, and while Flynn feels slightly vindicated of having evidence of Yuri's ability to effect change, he wishes that he could escape Yuri's ghost, if only for a little while.

He hasn't been able to sleep properly in weeks.

"Is anything the matter, Commandant?"

Flynn starts, looking up to Sodia's face hovering anxiously past his shoulder. He hadn't heard her approach, which is an unsettling thought considering how easily she could have been a monster. He shakes his head.

"Everything's fine Sodia, I'm just tired," he answers truthfully, no use lying when he's sure he looks awful. He sighs and heaves himself to his feet, swaying lightly before he regains his equilibrium. "I'm going to turn in for the night. Wake me if anything happens."

She salutes as he walks to his tent, and it's a... relief to be away from her, horrible as that sounds. She's become even more... overwhelming since they'd left the capital. Normally he can deal with her protectiveness, but he's found that it's getting harder and harder to deal with, and he's not entirely sure why. It may be because her attentions remind him that he's not entirely...himself, at the moment. And he's becoming increasingly irritated that he still hasn't been able to bounce back.

In his tent, he shrugs out of his armour, lays it out carefully as he places his sword on its rack. Besides hanging up his mantle, he doesn't bother to skin out of his leathers because he knows that he'll be awake within hours, and his uniform is warmer than his sleepwear anyway.

He stares at his bedroll for a long, silent moment. It's standard issue, barely more of a stuffed blanket than a pallet, and it suddenly strikes him that everything in his tent is standard issue. There's no deviation of protocol, no sense of personality, nothing to suggest that there's a person living in here besides the necessities spread out to regulatory specifications, and it makes him... laugh, low and humourless, because Yuri was right, he really is just a boring knight.

-o-

"Commandant!"

Sodia's urgent voice has him awake in an instant, sitting up in time to see her poke her head through the flap of his tent.

"What is it?" He's immediately on his feet, slipping into his armour and grabbing up his sword. They're out of his tent in a matter of moments, and Sodia is leading him to the edge of the encampment.

The cloud of dust blurring the horizon is...enormous, bigger than anything he's ever seen, and there's only one word on Sodia's lips.

"_Monsters_."

-o-

There's only a few hours left until the monsters reach the camp, and Flynn is readying himself for the inevitable. It's only been a day and the cloud of dust being kicked up by thousands of monster feet has already doubled in size.

He wishes there had been some way to get everyone to safety, but it would have taken two days to get to the boats, and judging by the way the dust cloud spans the horizon, they would have been caught halfway to the shore, defenceless. At least staying gives them a chance to build defences.

Hopefully Sodia will arrive with reinforcements before they're completely overrun – It only takes a few hours to get to the boats on a mount, barely a fraction of the time it would have taken to evacuate everyone – but he's not optimistic.

His fingers are numb in his gauntlets, frozen as he grips his sword, and it takes all his effort not to shake with the cold. It would send the wrong message to his men, who expect him to be strong, emotionless, even now when their time is fast running out. They wouldn't understand that he's shaking from the ice that's been growing in him since Yuri died, and he doesn't want them to lose hope, even if it's a lost cause.

Flynn stands silent watch as the first monsters come within eye shot – enraged Rhinos, roaring Loewes, swarms of Bees, and that's just the first wave; they aren't going to make it are they? – and he lets his eyes close for one moment, taking a deep breath as he readies himself for the end.

-o-

Flynn never used to get cold, but Yuri always was. Yuri didn't have anything resembling proper circulation, so his feet were always freezing, and he once used Flynn's side as his personal heating machine.

Flynn sometimes wonders what he'd have to do to break Yuri of that particular habit.

But Yuri isn't there anymore, so Flynn will never know.


End file.
